No Holes Barred: A Familiar Face

by Marie Harte

"Let us go."

  Concerned at Core's hollow tone, Mallory nonetheless reached for the door, keeping one hand in Core's as she stepped through into the same room she'd seen only days ago.

  Hearing her love's deep sigh of regret, she took him in her arms and hugged him tightly, wishing she could wrap her arms all the way around him.

  "I'm sorry,” she whispered.

  "As am I. Fenin was my brother, my friend."

  "Your enemy,” Rattler added from behind them.

  Core thrust Mal behind him as he turned to face Rattler. But when his eyes met Rattler's he faltered.

  "Ratlaharan?” “Rattler?” she and Core breathed simultaneously.

  Her ex-boss smiled, sporting a new tongue piercing. “In the flesh."

  * * * *

  Core couldn't help it. He wanted to fall to his knees, prostrate before his god. But something about this ‘Rattler’ felt off, and he didn't trust the gleam in the man's eyes when they lit on Mallory.

  "You are Ratlaharan, creator of the Talian.” Core waited, his entire being quaking at not showing his god the proper respect. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling he needed to be on guard.

  "Actually, here I'm Rattler, owner of The Python Palace.” Rattler grinned, looking so much like him Core had to force himself not to stare overtly. “Want a tour?"

  Rattler opened the door and stepped out into a foreign room, what Core recognized from Mallory's description. “This, my friend, is The Lounge, a special place for special people.” He winked at Mallory, and Core threw a possessive arm over her shoulder.

  "Rattler, tell Core you're not this deity.” She chuckled. “You, a god? Come on."

  They descended the stairs into a crowded floor filled with people looking like Mallory. The men and women were indeed alien to Core's world. All had skin in shades of brown and tan. Men and women mingled, no open seduction here, but a good amount of drinking and carousing. A large, long counter took up the far wall of the large room, what in Core's world would have been the dark, open sleeping berth. From behind the counter two women gave out glasses of liquid. And a deep throbbing noise pounded from a direction off to his right.

  "What do you think of my place, Core?” Rattler asked, his amusement plain.

  "Not a place befitting a god,” Core had to admit. “Though it seems entertaining."

  Mal gasped and flew out of his arms toward a large brown man, heavy with muscle. Core growled, automatically reaching for his swords only to realize they were no longer there.

  "Check out your new threads,” Rattler murmured, waving pleasantly to several nearby people.

  Core stared wide-eyed at his confining trousers and heavy footwear. The shirt he wore looked much like the shirt Mallory had arrived in, though his was black and much larger.

  "Don't worry. That's Sherm, Mallory's best friend.” Rattler stared at Core, as if weighing his worth.

  "Why am I here?” Core had to know.

  "Because you needed to see Mallory's world. And she needed to return."

  Core tensed. “To say her goodbyes, yes."

  Rattler shook his head. “No, Core. She belongs here, with her kind. Just as you belong in Horum Veirus with yours."

  Core snarled, surprising himself. “You will not take back what you gave freely. The woman is mine. I have sacrificed, battled, and will continue to live for my people for the remainder of my life. But that life is one I will make with Mallory."

  "So you would choose to live here, then, with her, rather than with your people, War Leader? You were born to serve, yet you would abandon them in their time of need, for your time of pleasure?” Rattler stilled, bracing his arms across his chest.

  Time seemed to slow as Core thought hard on his next words. To live without Mallory? To stay here and help her, loving her, knowing his people would die without him?

  He stared at Mallory, drinking in her joy, her vivacity. She glowed with magic, and with the happiness surety afforded. Here, in this place, she was home. And much safer than with him fighting Phrellians day after day.

  His heart felt as if it were breaking. For the whole of his life he'd done what was asked of him. He'd lost friend after friend, even Fenin, now. And for what? To give up the part of him that longed for a semblance of normalcy, of family, again, for the good of the Talian race?

  "Nothing to say, War Leader?"

  Core hissed, and several people surrounding them started, shouting when his Snake began ascending before he drew on his discipline to call it back.

  "I will not be the cause of Talian destruction.” His heart cracked and he forced himself to remain stoic. “If I must make a choice, then duty it must be. I would ask, however, that you protect Mallory and see to her happiness.” He swallowed hard. “She deserves much more than that for saving so many.” Feeling betrayed by the god he'd spent his life serving, he knelt and awaited his answer.

  Rattler considered, then nodded. “So be it. Return to the Lounge and use the farthest door on the right. No, Core. Don't bother saying goodbye. There's nothing more for you here, brother.” Rattler's eyes clouded, and in the depths Core recognized a deep sadness. “I'm sorry Core, but if it helps, had you taken her back with you, she would have died there."

  With the words, the grief knotting inside him, Core left Ratlaharan and climbed the stairs. He wouldn't let his emotions tear him apart, and an awful numbness filled him when reached The Lounge and passed through the black door. He spied a bed very similar to the one in the other room, and sitting down on it, placed his head in his hands.

  Chapter Eight

  Mal hugged Sherm, excited to introduce him to Core. She couldn't believe only a few minutes had passed here while days had passed in Core's world. Must have been some kind of really weird temporal distortion spell. Though she'd didn't know any witch or warlock who'd ever successfully attempted such.

  Glancing around, she saw Rattler and Core talking, and wondered how the big guy was handling his talk with his ‘god'.

  "Check that out, Mal. Rattler has a twin brother. Who knew?"

  She grinned and shook her head. “That, Sherm, is the love of my life."

  "Huh?"

  "Where's Sheila? I'd like to get this out at once."

  "Bathroom. Now come on, Mal. You left us four hours ago with aching feet and whiny complaints."

  "Whiny?"

  "Sorry, bitchy.” Sherm grinned. “Then you come downstairs with a big gray guy, who's the spitting image of Rattler without all the metal. Not to mention this guy's got hair. And a helluva lot of muscle.” Sherm eyed him warily. “How do you know this dude, anyway?"

  "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

  He groaned. “One of those magic things, eh?"

  She nodded, her mood sobering as she realized she'd probably never see Sherm, Sheila or her parents again.

  "I'm leaving Newtown, Sherm."

  "About damned time.” He grunted. “Move uptown, near Sheila and me, maybe. I know a guy...."

  "No, Sherm. I'm leaving leaving.” She took a deep breath, seeing the confusion in his eyes turn to one of comprehension.

  "For how long?"

  "Probably forever.” She sniffed, suddenly consumed with sadness that she might never see her best friend again.

  "But why?” He frowned. “If you have the hots for the gray guy, just move him in with you."

  "Apparently it doesn't work that way.” This was way hard. And she realized if she drew it out, would be almost impossible to leave. “Look. I have to leave to be with him, and I'm really needed there.” She didn't have to force a watery grin. “They actually thank me when I wipe out a vamp."

  His eyes widened. “Vamps where you're going? Not too far then."

  She laughed, shaking her head. “I have no idea how far. Or when, or where. You say I spent ten minutes upstairs, but I know it was more like a week in a desert and a jungle."

  He whistled and stared at Rattler. “Wonder exactly who Rattler is, and who he's really working for?"

 
"Me, too.” She hugged Sherm tightly once more, then separated herself. “Look, if I stay to say goodbye to Sheila, I'll never leave. And I know in my heart this is the right thing for me. I love the big guy, Sherm."

  He stared hard, his lips slowly curling into a grin. “Marriage and all that?"

  "Yep. And babies as soon as I can get my hands on him again."

  Sherm smiled. “I'm going to miss you, Mallory West."

  "You, too,” she said through tears. “I love you, Sherm. And tell Sheila I'll miss her."

  "Will do."

  She quickly turned and searched for Rattler. To her surprise, she found him across the club chatting with ... her parents?

  "Mother, Father.” What the hell are you doing here?

  "Mallory.” Her Mother stared unblinkingly, her nose twitching as she studied the beer and who-knew-what-else stains on Mal's cheap flats. “How distressing to find that this ‘gentleman’ speaks true. You actually work here? Serving drinks?"

  Wow. Saying goodbye to her parents wouldn't be so hard after all. “Mom, Dad, I'm leaving."

  As if she hadn't spoken, her father added. “Aaron has reconsidered his proposal, Mallory. He'd like you to marry him, and he's willing to overlook your venture into trade."

  "How nice for Aaron. Again, no. And maybe you didn't hear me before, but I won't be seeing you again, ever.” A small pang of sadness hit her, a wave of nostalgia for the once-warm mother who'd wiped her tears and the father who'd taught her her first spell—all long before she'd proven such a disappointment, of course.

  "Fine then,” her mother snapped. “Gregory, let's go."

  Her father glared at her. “This is a huge mistake. And one we won't soon forget."

  She watched them leave and surprisingly felt a huge weight lift off her chest.

  "I could explain things, if you think it would help,” Rattler murmured. He watched her closely.

  "Not necessary,” she said on a sigh. “They've always been snobs, and always will be. I never fit in there anyway."

  Rattler studied her, a new look in his eyes that made her uncomfortably aware Core considered him a deity.

  "So are you really a god or what?"

  Her bluntness amused him, and he laughed. “Me? The slave master? What do you think?"

  She looked into his eyes, really looked for the first time. The deep black of his gaze seemed fathomless, but in their depths she was startled to see what looked like galaxies and worlds beyond worlds. She suddenly felt waves of power emanating from his soul, and from the mottling snake tattooed into the back of his neck.

  "I think, maybe, I don't want to know,” she croaked and took a healthy step back. “Where did Core go?"

  He nodded upstairs. “Guy looked a little tired. And it's a funny thing, but he looks a lot like me.” Rattler preened. “I look good with hair, don't I?"

  She rolled her eyes, pleased the boss she thought she knew had returned. “Yeah, you do. But the piercings. I don't know."

  He frowned. “I'll have you know, these are holy signs, strictures of absolutes and promises rendered.” Cupping her chin in his palm, he stared. “You really do love him, don't you Mallory?"

  "I really do."

  "Good. He's a fine warrior and the first truly decent leader the Talians have had in ages. I could think of no other upon whom to bestow our greatest hope.” He stared at her when she would have asked what hope he spoke of.

  "I thought I was a treasure,” she joked, feeling her face heat.

  "Yes.” He kissed her softly on the lips, and she jolted at the sheer sexual voltage packed into that simple peck. “A messenger with great tidings. And the power to back up her convictions."

  She had so much to ask him, so much she wanted to know. Then he smiled, and he looked so much like Core she could only stare.

  "Are you sure you and Core aren't really related?"

  "But Mallory, if I'm a god, wouldn't that make Core a god? And if he's a god, why didn't he simply kill all those Phrellians with a glare?"

  She opened her mouth but closed it as quickly. “Do you have to answer a question with a question?"

  "But doesn't not knowing make everything more exciting, more mysterious?” he rumbled.

  "That was a question. And god or not, you're becoming a huge pain in my ass.” She scowled at his laughter. “I'm not going to see you again, am I?"

  He shrugged. “You never know. If it's allowed, maybe one day I'll be able to find the black door as easily as you did."

  Giving her another huge hug, he slapped a heavy knapsack into her hands.

  "Take this gift. Call it a wedding present. A ton of spells and charms you can use in the future. As well as an unending spell of wax. It'll do you a world of good.” He smiled, his teeth suddenly razor sharp and his pupils long and narrow. “Tell Core never to stop believing, and that he passed his last test."

  She frowned. “Test? What does that mean?"

  "That only the worthy may live and love in the god's grounds."

  "This is so weird,” she muttered, shaking her head.

  "He really loves you, Mallory.” Rattler chuckled and shoved her toward the guarded stairway. “Take the farthest door on the right, and hurry up before it disappears. I don't know if you'll have another opportunity to find him again in this lifetime."

  She waved over her shoulder and ran as fast as she was able carrying the heavy sack. Reaching the top of the stairs, she hurried to the third black door, alarmed when her vision of if began to haze.

  Mal threw the door open and saw Core sitting dejectedly on the bed. She immediately dropped the bag and sat next to him.

  "Core? What's wrong?"

  He stared up at her in shock, and when she asked him again what was wrong, he crushed her to him.

  "Mallory,” he breathed, kissing the top of her head. “You're really here?” Tears began to fill his beautiful gray-green eyes. “I thought I'd lost you forever."

  "Core?” She grimaced at Rattler's parting words. “What did he say to you? Some final test, hmm? That jerk.” When she heard what had said, she shook her head. “Of course I'll die there, Core. I'm not immortal, you know. And if I don't die there, it's pretty much a guarantee that I'll die somewhere else. Pretty sneaky of my conniving boss, that...."

  "Kina, hush.” Core kissed her long and hard, his tongue convincing her to let bygones be bygones. “You are my heart, my soul.” He grinned as she began to purr, and his answering rumble made her grin, as well. “My own little familiar.” He stroked her hair. “As soft as that feline fur but far more beautiful.” He kissed her cheek, her throat, the pulse in her neck. “Black hair, dark as night, spread over these sheets while you wear nothing else but me, and my sincere appreciation."

  "I love you, Core."

  "And I you, my treasure.” When Core could catch his breath, he chuckled and began removing her clothing. “Praise to Ratlaharan, and all the sons and daughters we will give him."

  The End

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